The Elephant Man Page #5

OWNER:

Stand up!

The Boy, excited by his own fear, mimics the Owner.

BOY:

Stand up!

The figure comes forward and lets the blanket fall to the

ground and we see the ELEPHANT MAN himself.

Treves, his eyes wide with horror and wonder, his mouth frozen

open, steps backward in an instinctive movement of self

preservation.

The Owner laughs.

The Elephant Man is naked to the waist, his feet are bare

and he wears a pair of worn trousers from a fat man's dress

suit. He is a little below average height, and looks shorter

from the bowing of his back. His head is enormous and

misshapen, as big around as a man's waist. From his brow

projects a huge boney mass, almost obscuring his right eye.

His nose is a nose of flesh, recognizable only from its

position.

From the upper jaw projects another mass of bone protruding

from the mouth like a stump, turning the upper lip inside

out, making a slobbering aperture.

It almost gives the impression of a rudimentary trunk or

tusk. On top of his head is a handful of lank, black hair.

At the back of it hangs a bag of spongy skin, resembling

cauliflower. These loathsome growths cover his back and hang

down to the middle of his thighs. The right arm is enormous

and shapeless, the hand like a knot of tuberous roots. His

left arm is not only normal, but delicately shaped, with

fine skin and a hand that any woman might envy. From his

chest hangs another bag of flesh, like the dewlap of a lizard.

His legs are also grossly deformed, his feet great stumps.

Behind him, as painted in the portrait, are two crudely

constructed palm trees.

The Owner harshly raps again.

OWNER:

Turn around!

The Elephant Man begins to turn. The boy filled with malicious

glee at seeing the monster obey, screams.

BOY:

Turn around! Turn around!

The Elephant Man completes his turn and comes to rest.

We see a CLOSE-UP of the Elephant Man looking at Treves. His

face is utterly devoid, and incapable, of expression.

We see the Elephant Man's eyes. He closes them.

OUTSIDE THE SHOP

The Owner is locking up.

Treves, facing the street, drinks in the fresh air. He is

trying to forget his shock, put everything into focus.

He looks at the garish portrait again.

Treves produces his purse.

The Owner, smelling money, turns.

Treves hands him several coins.

TREVES:

So you'll bring him to me, tomorrow,

10:
00 a.m.? Mr...?

OWNER:

Bytes. Mr. Bytes. He'll be there.

TREVES:

I'll send a cab. Here is my card.

Treves hands the Owner a card. The Owner, greasy and dirty,

shakes Treves' hand and squeezes his arm.

OWNER:

Now we got a deal... We understand

each other... guv. We understand

each other completely.

The Owner gives Treves the evil look of a conspirator.

Treves walks off, disoriented.

The Owner reads the card and smiles at Treves walking away

down the street.

DISSOLVE TO OUTSIDE THE SHOP

A CABMAN is knocking on the door of the shop, staring at the

portrait. The door opens, revealing a figure in a floor-length

black cloak. On his head is an extremely large hat, cut to

the lines of a yachting cap. A grey-flannel curtain hangs

from the bottom of the cap all the way around, hiding his

face.

There is a horizontal slit in front for the eyes. On the

figure's feet are large, bag-like slippers. The only part of

the body seen at all is the left arm and hand, which protrudes

from the cloak, holding a crude walking stick.

The figure seems to loathe being in the open. We can just

barely see in the darkness within the Owner standing to one

side of the door, obviously enjoying the surprise on the

Cabman's face. The Owner steps abruptly into his view.

OWNER:

Don't just stand there. Help him up.

The Cabman, does so, while a small, curious crowd forms. The

Owner gives the Cabman the card. The Cabman jumps up onto

the seat and off they go.

THE RECEIVING ROOM - LONDON HOSPITAL

The receiving room is a bare hall, painted stone color. It

has rows of benches and a long desk where entries are made,

and certificates and other papers are issued. It is a cold,

harsh place.

CABMAN:

Not at all, sir. My... pleasure.

He exits.

Treves turns and sees the Matron, staring.

TREVES:

I'll be in my rooms, Mothershead.

I'm not to be disturbed.

She nods silently. Treves looks at the figure for a moment.

TREVES:

Come with me, please.

He starts to go out of the room. The hooded figure just stands

there, motionless.

We see the whole room, the people now silent. They all stare

at the figure.

No one makes a move.

MATRON:

You heard the doctor... Go on.

Treves turns to look at the hooded figure who stands there a

moment, then slowly shuffles after him. Mrs. Mothershead and

the people in the room watch him go. When he is out of sight,

they all begin to talk excitedly.

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